Genesis
by Eowyn-whitelady1
Summary: An explanation of the events leading up to the events of my songfic "Think of me", centred around the beginnings of the life-changing friendship between Dr Alan Grant and a student searching for answers. Rated "T" for thematic elements and language. Please R&R.


**Genesis**

 _Disclaimer: This fan fiction is made for entertainment only and I am in no way affiliated with any of the properties associated with "Jurassic Park" nor am I receiving payment for writing this. All rights belong to Universal Studios and Michael Crichton._

 _ **Introduction**_ _:_

 _This fan fiction is a prequel of sorts to the song-fic. "Think of Me" outlining the events that lead up to the life-changing friendship between Dr. Grant and a newcomer,_

 _Samantha Fraizer. I thought some who enjoyed that story would like to see how things developed. I did change a few details as I mistakenly named a character "Jessie" in "Think of me" when her name in "Jurassic Park III" was really Cheryl._

 _ **Chapter one-Friendly introductions**_

Sunrises, Alan Grant was used to them signaling a new day, new challenges, discoveries and he had a feeling today would be no exception. The golden light streamed in slowly through his windows revealing the room's colors. He lifted his coffee cup to his lips and took a swallow of the bitter brew. He usually took more sugar in his coffee, but he had used the last bit and it wasn't doing enough to cut the bitter bite the beans possessed.

He made a mental note to get some more at the end of the day.

It was the first day of the new dig at Fork Peck Lake a year since the fiasco with the Kirbys and narrowing escaping death on Isla Sorna. The media frenzy had died down and he was thoroughly looking forward to teaching the group made up of mostly paleontology students, a few dinosaur-crazy kids and a few students looking for something different to study during the summer. A knock at his trailer door interrupted his thoughts.

"Alan," a voice said. "You up yet?" Alan knew it to be Billy his dig manager and assistant professor on the dig. Alan chuckled at the question. If he wasn't up yet, Billy's loud knock on the metal door certainly would have roused him from sleep.

"Yeah, Billy," Alan answered as he stepped forward to open the door. He peeked out then to make sure he wasn't about to strike Billy with the door. Finding him moved out of the way of harm, he opened it further and stepped out into the morning light. The dig site stretched out before him with tents set up from the night before, various bits of equipment and tools neatly assembled for the first day. Billy held a clipboard in his hands.

"You seem to be ready a bit soon don't you think?" Alan mused, knowing the students wouldn't turn up for another two hours.

Billy gave him a puzzled look but then grinned back at Alan when he realized he was only teasing.

"Funny, funny." He said. "Have you gotten breakfast yet?"

"No, not yet," Alan said, gesturing to the land ahead of them, where they often built fires at night for the crew who stayed on the site at night. "You ready to rough it for the summer?"

"You know I am," Billy said. At this, Alan went back inside to retrieve the bread, butter, sausage, eggs, cast iron pan along with the various plates and utensils, he'd need for them to have a meal before the day began.

Sam's brown eyes squinted against the light of the sun shining into her windshield as she traveled the last twenty miles to Fort Peck Lake where she'd soon begin embarking on a course of study she'd never studied before. She had questions that needed answers and she hoped this course would provide them. She pondered what purpose design might have in the field of science and the understanding of how the world worked. She'd heard rumblings in the university she attended that anyone who questioned long-held theories in paleontology was threatened, shunned and blacklisted. As a journalism major, she was naturally curious if those rumors were true, and whether there was really that narrow a view in the community of scientists. Sam believed everything in the world had a purpose,

a function, all meant to work together to point to something bigger and more important than mundane existence. Her palms broke out into a nervous sweat as the realization hit her that this summer may lead to answers that she wouldn't want. It as enough that she had felt the need to relocate from her busy, full New Zealand home life and start over in the vast beauty of Montana. With her roommate back in her residence of Missoula having just moved out to be with her husband, she was effectively leaving her whole life behind. She felt like she was starting a new life with her SUV the essentials to her life's memories and the practical supplies she needed for life on the dig site.

Before her slight nervousness turned into a major issue she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had a feeling her in the pit of her stomach life was about to change, and she prayed it was for the better.

Their breakfast had long been consumed, the dishes long cleaned up, but Alan still

remained in his trailer soaking up the last few moments of solitude he had until work started. This work energized him still, that was never his problem, the problem was with people. The frenzy and speculation of the press had been averted by the government after the Kirby incident but he still bristled to think how much of a mess it could make to his name, to his future supporters to have speculation and rumors running amuck.

He exited his trailer to find a small crowd forming as the students filed in checking in with Billy at a folding table that was acting as a desk. The crowd was made up of more serious students it seemed than families indulging their child's obsession with the prehistoric creatures that were his passion. Only one preteen boy was in the crowd, along with what looked like the boy's father. Alan's lips turned up in a small smile despite himself. Usually, the sight wouldn't move him, but his experiences with the Kirbys must have left him softer than before.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief as she reached the outskirts Fort Peck Lake, as it had almost eight hours of driving split over two days, to get from her former home in Missoula. The light of the sun shone brightly off the water and after a brief glance at her map, she saw what looked like a campsite with tents and trailers scattered about, on a dry patch of the lake. It was a breathtaking sight as the width and breadth of the water as it spanned across the horizon. The landscape was dotted with trees and shrubs along with dry patches that were to be their worksites. She worked carefully to navigate the rougher terrain once the roadway went from paved to rough dirt. She was grateful for her sunglasses now perched on her nose which cut the glare of the sun that had previously obstructed her vision.

It wasn't long before she was pulling into the campsite being pointed to a safe spot to park by who she guessed was a superior on the dig, a man sporting a tan fedora and aviator sunglasses. She placed the vehicle in park and exited her blue SUV, her boots stirring up the dust on the makeshift parking lot. She moved to thank the man who guided her to a spot but he was out of sight by the time she got to her trailer to check on her belongings. All looking well after a few moments of inspection she made her way to the sign-in table. A brown haired man with sunglasses smiled at her when she approached.

"Heya," Sam said in her usual way. "I'm Samantha Frazier, from Missoula University.

Originally from the land of the kiwi," she said with a smile.

"Ahh, yeah, I thought I heard an accent." He said with a quick professional smile in

return. "I'm Billy Brennan, I'm assisting Dr. Grant on the dig," he said extending his hand in greeting, which Sam took and shook.

"Pleasure, to meet you. It's great to be here."

"Yes," Billy said, glancing on the information he had on his clipboard about her. "Now, you're one of those on the digs camping on site. Is that correct?"

Sam gave a quick nod.

"Yes, sir, I'm parked right over there. One the parking attendants on-site directed me to the spot." Sam said and pointed over her right shoulder.

"Parking attendants?" Billy said, a sounding confused. "Oh, it must have been a volunteer. Anyway, did you get the e-mail we sent on the rules for those staying with us on the site?" Sam nodded, and Billy scribbled something onto his sheet. "Good. Well, we'll be having Dr. Grant do the orientation in about fifteen minutes, so you can join the others and then we'll take from there. Welcome to the dig Miss Frazier."

"Thanks," Sam said. She turned and made her way to the others in the dig about twenty people including herself milling around, making introductions and engaging in small talk. The mood seemed to be happy and full of energy, despite the summer heat beginning to

rise, causing some to fan themselves and drink from their water bottles. She still felt as if she was on a precipice of sorts, needing desperately maintain her balance or else she would fall.

"Hey," she heard someone close to her say. She jumped slightly not expecting to have someone greet her from behind.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" A woman who looked to be about Sam's age, with shoulder length curly dark brown hair. "I just wanted to say hello to a fellow woman on the crew. It's Sam Fraizer, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. But how'd you…"

"Oh, Billy told me. I'm Cheryl Logan." the young woman said extending her hand to her. Sam accepted it and smiled. She couldn't be upset when the woman's eyes seemed so warm and eager to make her acquaintance. "So, I'm guessing this is your first dig?"

"Yeah, it is. I'm nervous and I can't quite figure out why." Sam said, more to herself than Cheryl.

"Rookie nerves probably." Cheryl guessed in an effort to try to help. Sam shot her a look of surprise until she realized that she'd spoken her words aloud. "So what are you studying?"

"Journalism," Sam answered. "I write for a small newsletter in Missoula."

"Oh really? What made you curious about the dig? I mean, we don't many journalists out here unless Dr. Grant has released a new book."

"Curiosity."

"Ah, I guess I'm going to wait to get that out of you." Cheryl teased.

"Yep," Sam said with a short laugh.

"Fair enough," Cheryl said with a small smile. "Oh, I think orientation is getting started. Dr. Grant's coming this way."

Sam looked to see that someone with sunglasses and a fedora was indeed coming up to them. She chuckled to herself and her cheeks filled with heat when she realized the "parking attendant" she mistook him for earlier, was actually Dr. Grant himself. She normally would of remembered a face.

"Good morning everyone." the man began. "I hope your trips here went well and you're ready to get onto the business of the dig. I'm Dr. Grant and you'll be reporting to me on any fossil matter you think you find or that you're working on. For smaller matters please report to Billy who signed you in when you got here. The findings we make together further the causes of research and so, it requires you treat anything you find with care and obey all the dig rules that Mr. Brennan sent you earlier." Dr. Grant said. He then went into rules that concerned minors, versus adults, and volunteers versus students. Most reflected personal property and local ordinances.

Sam observed that there seemed to be an intensity about him that simmered underneath the surface of the mundane things he shared. When he took off his sunglasses towards the end to better read Billy's notes and do role call Sam saw it reflected in his eyes, and for some reason, she also saw sadness. It hit her like a wave in no outward sign but a gut level reaction. She couldn't help but wonder what about.

When he concluded he briefly took some time to greet those who wanted to have a few words with him. He was professional with his manner, though a little distracted as if he preferred to be covered in dust working on a specimen than speaking to eager students about how excited they were, or how they agreed or disagreed with a book he'd published. Sam was unsure whether to approach him or let him be for now. Surely there would be time for interaction later. She went to walk past him as they had ten minutes to grab the items they'd need for the dig or situate their belongings. She walked past him without a word.

"So, you feeling a little better now?" Cheryl asked.

"Little bit, Cheryl. So how long have you been with Dr. Grant's crew?" Sam asked.

"Two years." the student answered. "I'm past the awkward stage where I'm constantly asking for help, thank God. Fieldwork is hard for some paleontology students to grasp at first, so don't worry if

you take a while to get used to it."

"So Billy was the guy that signed everyone in? He's the dig's manager?" Sam asked, remembering Billy as an athletically built young man with curly hair cut short, and donning sunglasses, with a face that she be could be a distraction to the single women on the site.

"Yep, that's him," Cheryl said with a grin. Sam's eyes narrowed, and if she wasn't wearing sunglasses Cheryl would see the question they asked. Her eyes seemed a little too bright at the mention of him. Sam didn't ask anything about it until she had gathered her tools and was directed to a site to dig. Cheryl had arranged for Sam to shadow her for the first day so she could learn the ins and outs of the dig.

"So, he's friendly with you?" Sam asked.

"Who? Billy? Yeah, he's a friendly guy. Kind of has to be given his position." Cheryl said. Sam knew she was averting the real question. "He's smart, super adventurous, been all over the world, even where you're from. He's got a killer paragliding story you should ask him about. He came to join the team the year before I did. He's all about being innovative about how we set about research, and Alan, well, Alan figures if it's not broke, don't fix it. He's old school like that."

"Ah, well, they're from two different generations, that happens. Unless you're me." Sam responded. "With me, you feel almost completely lost in this time period. I carry a cellular phone with me because it's the thing to do, but I can't stand to listen to my own voicemail." Cheryl gave a brief snicker. Sam guessed Cheryl was more accepting of technology than she.

Cheryl turned their attention back to the site and pointed out their spot to dig where according to electronic scans indicated possible plant life. She got down on the ground and laid herself out and neatly laid her tools out where she could easily find them. Her tools being shovels, chisels, a rock hammer, compass and a magnifying lens, while Sam carried the notebooks, pencils, brushes, old newspapers, and labels. Sam copied her movements and marked down their position on the dig site. She glanced down at her watch for the time and writing down all the relevant information. Billy told them about their spot on the dig.

Cheryl then stood, picked up the shovel and struck the rock in the place she determined was best to find the specimen.

"What time period do you think you belong in?" Cheryl asked. She brushed the broken rocks away.

"Ahh, the 70's probably," Sam answered. Cheryl laughed at her answer.

"Yeah, fewer voicemails."

 _That's all for now until I get a little interest from this story then I will post more. Please R &R as it helps me in my writing process. Thanks in advance! I hope you find it enjoyable. _


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